


Riding Lessons

by basaltgrrl



Category: Life on Mars (UK)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-10
Updated: 2010-11-10
Packaged: 2017-10-15 10:14:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/159791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/basaltgrrl/pseuds/basaltgrrl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Idyllic, out-of-doors, kinky role-reversal sex, with added horses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Riding Lessons

  
  
  
  
**Entry tags:**   
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[character: annie](http://community.livejournal.com/lifein1973/tag/character%3A%20annie), [character: sam](http://community.livejournal.com/lifein1973/tag/character%3A%20sam), [fic](http://community.livejournal.com/lifein1973/tag/fic), [fic type: het](http://community.livejournal.com/lifein1973/tag/fic%20type%3A%20het), [pairing: sam/annie](http://community.livejournal.com/lifein1973/tag/pairing%3A%20sam%2Fannie), [rating: brown cortina](http://community.livejournal.com/lifein1973/tag/rating%3A%20brown%20cortina)  
  
---|---  
  
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**Fic: Riding Lessons, Basaltgrrl, brown cortina, sam/annie**   
_   


This is for my Pervember grid, prompts: Riding lessons, role-reversal, neck

Title: Riding Lessons  
Author: basaltgrrl  
Word count: 4520  
Genre: Um, does this count as PWP?  
Rating: brown cortina  
Summary: Idyllic, out-of-doors, kinky role-reversal sex, with added horses.

Many thanks to thesmallhobbit and to margo_kim for advice and kind words and encouragement!

 

“So you’ve really never ridden before?” 

 “Never!  Never touched a horse in my life, honestly.”

Sam gave Annie a very blatant once-over.  Her cheeks colored but she stood in place, tight jodphurs, knee-high brown leather boots, tweed riding jacket.  Her hair was pulled back in a tight knot, ready to be tucked into a riding cap.

“S’all a bit tight, really,” she demurred.  “Fit me perfect when I was eighteen, but—“

“No no no!” he protested.  “Really!  I love it!  You just look so… androgynous.”

She thought that through for a moment.  “You’ve never seen me in anything but a dress.”

“But I like your legs!  I like seeing them very much.  And the hair… your face looks so different.  I can see the shape of your jaw…”  he stepped in close and traced the line of her cheek with a finger.  His blood seemed to be running hot; her eyes closed but then flew open wide when he leaned in to kiss the corner of her mouth.

“Sam…” she whispered warningly.  “My aunt…”

“It’s OK.  I can wait.”  He stepped back, smiling.  “Am I dressed acceptably?”

They had found a pair of riding boots that fit him well enough—probably from Annie’s cousin, Tom—and a pair of jodphurs that were not too much the worse for wear.  He had wanted to wear his leather, but Annie had insisted on proper riding wear, so he wore a fitted jacket of dark blue wool over one of his shirts—white with a pale blue floral print.

“You’ll do.  Let’s go meet the horses.”

Mary was waiting for them at the stables.  Sam had seen the resemblance to Annie at once with the clear-eyed honesty and the dimples, although Mary was shorter and leaner and altogether a bit harder.  She had evaluated Sam with one piercing look and then shook his hand with firmness.

“If you’ve not ridden, Penny will take care of your well enough,” she said briskly, handing him the reins.  The horse looked huge to him, brown all over but for a white star on her forehead.  The idea of scrambling up into the saddle was daunting.

“Thanks.  I think,” he murmured.

“And I thought you would like Zephyr,” Mary continued to Annie.  “He hasn’t run much this week, but you can handle him I’m sure.  Maybe a gallop across Fox Hill.  I’ve packed a bag for the two of you… figured you’d like a lunch outdoors.  Just be back in time for tea!”  Mary patted Annie’s cheek and gave her a wink, then turned to open the wide stable door.

Sam struggled his way into the saddle, uncomfortably aware of how easily Annie had swung up onto Zephyr’s back, and followed her out into the stableyard.  Annie’s mount was easily taller than his, a gigantic black horse.  “Take the reins a little tighter,” she called back to him.  “Don’t pull, just have some contact with her mouth so she knows you’re there.”

He attempted to do so.  Yes, he could feel her head through the reins, and her back shifting beneath him with every step.  He had not really expected how vulnerable it would feel, at the mercy of the animal.  As they rode out through the gate and into the lane he chanced a glimpse up from Penny’s mane to watch Annie.  She sat easily in the saddle; he could almost feel the joy in her.  Yeah, this was her world, all right.  He smiled as he remembered the longing in her voice a couple of days earlier; “My aunt’s invited me for the weekend, and I thought you might like to come.  I lived with her during the summers when I was a girl, rode horses all over the hills.  I think you’d like it, Sam.“

And now they were here, and the horses were bearing them easily, and he felt his muscles relax bit by bit as the motion became more familiar.  Annie pulled back until they were ambling side by side.  She grinned at him, looking so dapper in her riding gear.  “How does it feel?”

“Fine,” he answered.  “Is this all there is to it?”

“We could try a trot, if you’re ready.  Penny will follow me, you don’t have to do anything—except stay on her back!”  And with that Annie had leaned forward, and a moment later Zephyr seemed to leap ahead and Penny jerked and twisted under him in an entirely new way.  He rode out the bumps—it seemed that trotting was nothing but bumps—and the trees and brush moved past at an alarming speed while Zephyr’s black haunches kept pulling ahead.  He felt a moment of panic; would he be able to stop Penny if Annie rode out of sight? But then pushed it down and stiffened in the saddle.  It was just horseback riding.  Annie had done it as a girl, for chrissakes.

The trotting was not getting better as they went on—in fact he felt even more at the mercy of the horse as the trees blurred in his vision.  He was just starting to wonder if Annie would even stop if he fell off when she did pull to a halt and Penny stopped beside her without him having to do anything.  He was breathing hard, though he hadn’t been doing anything except sit on her back.  He realized he had lost a stirrup and struggled to get his toe back in it without Annie noticing.

“Alright?” she asked him.

“Hmmm,” he answered noncommittally.

“Sam?”

“Remember, I’m new to this.”

“I won’t forget.  You can tell me if it’s too much, you know.”

He gave her a wry smile.  “I said I’d come riding with you.  I’m not going to back out now.”

“Well no, but… I want you to enjoy it.”

“I’m enjoying sharing the experience with you, even if I never do it again.”  The horse took a step sideways—how did they do that?—and stretched out her neck to snatch leaves off a nearby tree.  “Why did your aunt think you would like Zephyr?”

“Oh, I rode him a lot when Mary got him three years ago.  He was quite a handful then, the daft young thing.  But what a jumper.”

“What does that mean, ‘a handful’?”

“Oh, liable to bolt, wanted to brush me off against the fence, things like that.”

He watched her out of the corner of his eye while trying to pay attention to Penny’s activities.  He knew that Annie was strong, strong enough to make her place in an office full of savages, but this was something he had never imagined.  A different kind of strength.   He could admit to himself if not to her that these horses were scaring the crap out of him.  The fact that she sat on the beast’s back laughing and looking like she didn’t have a care in the world… that took his breath away.

“ We should try a bit of a canter; it’s smoother than the trot, but faster.  Is that OK?”

“Hmmm,” he answered noncommittally, and she flashed him a grin and moved off.  Annie did something--she hardly seemed to move in the saddle—and then Zephyr surged with a flick of his black tail.  Penny abandoned the bush she had been eating and leapt into a trot, falling behind as they rushed down the lane.

 After his first rush of terror Sam enjoyed the rocking motion more than the constant bouncing of the trot.  They rode out from the sheltered lane and along a track that ran through a valley, then up the side of a long, gentle hill.  The horses shifted from a canter to a walk.  The view was, if not spectacular, at least lovely.  They had a view for miles of the gently rolling terrain, fields glowing in the autumn sunlight and groups of sheep or cows meandering.  He had no idea how much of this land belonged to Mary, or where the boundaries might be.  It felt oddly freeing to be rambling in the country after all the months in Manchester.  He wondered about that; marveled at the colors after all the grey of the city.  It seemed so unpopulated out here.

As they crested the rise the horse gave a huge leap sideways.  Sam grabbed for the edge of the saddle but it was out of his reach before he could even react, and then he was sliding sideways with a yelp.  He hit the ground with another cry, the air jolted out of him.

Annie’s horse spun on his heels—Sam hadn’t known they could maneauver so fast—and a moment later Annie had dismounted and was at his side.  He was still struggling to draw a full breath.

“Sam!  Are you OK?”  She ran her hands through his hair, turned his face up to hers to look searchingly into his eyes.

“Uh,” he gasped.  “Y-yeah.  Just—landed hard.  On—my arse.”

“Not your head, then?”

“No, that end’s… fine.”  He was still short of breath.

“Can you move everything?”

He slowly got to his feet, testing each joint as he moved it—but they all seemed to be functioning.  Penny had walked a few yards away and was cropping grass with gusto.  ““I guess I survived.  Why did she jump like that?” 

“I think a rabbit bolted and it startled her.  Sorry, Sam.  You shouldn’t have to fall off on your first day riding!”  She had a hand on his shoulder, steadying him.  He heaved a breath, trying to stand straight.  Something still hurt; he wasn’t quite sure what.  Suddenly she pulled him in to a brief hug.  “Maybe this is a good time to stop for lunch.”

“Yeah, all right.”  He didn’t mind letting her take charge of the horses and the meal preparations while he stumped around, working the kinks out of his legs. 

She produced a blanket from her saddlebag which she shook and spread on the gentle slope, and then dug into the other bag for assorted parcels of various shapes and sizes.  “I told you Mary would kit us out for lunch,” she laughed.  “She never does things by halves!”   

He sank down on the blanket with a groan and surveyed the bounty.  There was a bottle of chardonnay.  It had been so long since Sam had even seen a varietal that his eyes bugged out a little.  Annie noticed, of course.

“Yeah, Mary likes her wine, she does.  I don’t argue with ‘er, although I can’t tell the difference.  She’s going to give me a bottle now and then no matter what I say.”  Annie gave him a shy look.  “You know wine, don’t you?”

“Well… yeah.”

Annie was quiet for a moment as she wrestled with the wine-opener, and then suddenly thrust bottle and puller into his hands.  “I’m sorry.  I know a bitter from a stout, but this…”

“Don’t be!  That’s not all there is to life.”

“Aye, but not everyone thinks that way.”

“Annie.”  He captured her hand, put the bottle down on the blanket.  “I think you’re special.  I think you’re smart.  You don’t have to prove yourself to me.”

She looked away, at the horses, and then back at him with a directness that unnerved him a little.  She looked so strong with her square face revealed and emphasized, her shoulders also square in the dark jacket.  “I know that, Sam.  Sometimes I feel like you’re the only one I don’t have to prove myself to.”

“Oh god,” he murmured.  “You really do amaze me.”

“Thank you,” she answered, not prevaricating.  “Hungry?”

“Starved.”

The chicken was cold but delicious, especially in combination with the tart cheddar, the chewy loaf of bread, and washed down with a gulp of the wine.  Sam found himself closing his eyes in utter contentment, but then opening them again to drink in the view, the colors of the trees, and the sight of Annie’s legs in the tall leather boots.

“Apple tart,” she said.

“Really?”

“Oh yes.”  She unfolded the paper and picked up a wedge of the pastry, then held it out toward him.  He grinned at her, leaned forward and took a bite.  It was crumbly and buttery on his tongue.  Just another sensation in a day full of them, it seemed.  Her eyes were dark and intent on him.  “Good?”

“Very.”  He picked up the other piece and held it out for her.  They traded bites like this until the dessert was gone, then Sam was licking her fingers.  She let him, let him go on long after any traces of apple tart were gone, and he was losing himself in the sensation of holding her hand and running his tongue over her skin.

“Ah… how’s your bum?”

“Hmmm?”  He opened his eyes.

“You fell pretty hard back there.”  She sounded breathless.  “I think I should check it out.”

“Oh.  Yeah, I… um, yeah, you should.  Bit sore, really.”  He let go her hand and maneuvered on hands and knees until his rear end was facing her.  He did feel stiff, but he also felt aroused in an almost otherworldly way in this broad, open place under the blowing clouds, with the horses cropping grass nearby in their own little world of food and sensation.

Annie put one hand on his arse, massaged it gently.  “Does that hurt?”

That was not the word he would have used to describe it.  She continued rubbing, and he slowly relaxed, letting his head and shoulders down until his face was resting against the blanket, smelling a little of horse  and grass.  Such a strange feeling.  And her hands were roaming further, now, tracing the shape of his thigh.  He shivered.

“Is that comfortable?” she asked softly.

“No.  But it feels good.”

She continued stroking, running both hands down his thighs, then up across his arse to his back, and he closed his eyes and eased himself down, rolled onto his back.  “Come here!”  He held out his arms to her.

She smiled, then stretched herself out next to him, pushing the remnants of lunch to the side, and watched him with her head propped up on one arm.  “Oh Sam.  It’s so nice to have you out here.”

“You can have me out here anytime you want,” he murmured.

“Can I?” She stared at him with more intensity.  “Can I take you?  Use you?  Have my way with you?”

“Oh yes.”

She put her hand on his chest, ran it lightly down the front of his shirt.  “Can I be in charge?”  It was as if she was in touch with his thoughts.

“Yeah.”  His chest felt tight, anticipatory.

“Can I… strip you?  Look at you, naked in the grass?”

“Annie…” he breathed, staring into her blue eyes.

“Can I ride you?”

“Any way you want.”

She hitched herself closer to him, on top of his chest, kissed him slowly.  He ran a hand down to her arse.  “Mmmm,” she murmured.  “My Sam.”

 “Have you ever imagined what it would be like to be a man?” Sam breathed against her lips.  The silence while she pressed her lips against his cheek weighed heavily on him.

“Yes,” she whispered.  “Yes.”

He smiled.  “You might be… Andrew.”

“And you’re Samantha, of course.”  She nuzzled his neck.  “Unless you’re Gladys.”

“No, Samantha will do.”  He rolled sideways, facing her.  “What if I was touching your cock?” he whispered.  His hand slid between her legs.  He watched her face.

“Mmmm.”  She rocked against his fingers.  Her jodphurs were so tight he thought he could feel her pulse through them.

“What if I was stroking up and down your cock?  Would you want to put it in me?”

“Sam…antha…” she breathed.

“Yes…” He was fumbling with the buttons on her trousers.  She helped him at last, and he worked his hand inside.

“Oh,” she said.  “Touch—my cock.”

“Yeah.”  They lay there in the sunlight, breathing, panting.  His fingers slid against her, into her.  “I’m getting so wet for you… Andrew.”

She opened her eyes.  Smiled – the dimple appeared, then disappeared, and she fingered the front of his shirt, undoing two buttons and then finding his nipples, and he drew a breath sharply.  She caressed him, spent an inordinate amount of time feeling the shape of his bare chest.  He rocked his hips toward her invitingly but she resisted the temptation.  Finally he captured one of her hands and placed it on the bulge in his trousers.

“Oh, I think you’re ready for me,” she murmured, tracing the length of him with one finger.

He groaned.  “Be gentle… it’s my first time.”

Her eyes widened.  “Oh really?  I’ll try not to hurt you.”  She worked the zipper of his trousers, then sat up and wrestled them halfway down his thighs leaving him revealed but pinned.  “I have so much to share with you, Samantha.”

She bent to him, licked just the underside of the head of his cock… and kept licking it.  Just that one spot.  In moments he was shifting, rolling to try to get her more engaged, but she gave him a sly wink and kept at it.

“Oh fuck, Annie,” he gasped, and she slapped his thigh in correction.

“I don’t want to rush it,” she smiled at him.  “I want it to be special.”

“Oh, it is special, Andrew,” he sighed.  “More?”

“If you want.”  She tongued him again, gentle, not fast, and he tried to lose himself in that sensation, to imagine that the whole of his body was represented by that half-inch of skin and he felt like he was succeeding until suddenly she took the entire head of his cock in her mouth.

“Fuck!” he gasped, hips thrusting up, and he was going to come and it was too soon and—he pushed her head away, sitting up. 

She looked startled for a moment and then burst into laughter.  “I’m sorry!”

“No, don’t be sorry.”  He felt himself flushing.  He covered his cock with his hands.  “I just—didn’t want it to be like _that_ , right now.”

“I did say it would be special,” she agreed, still amused.  “I should take my clothes off.”

She stood to take off her boots.  There was something profoundly alluring about the process; she managed to make it look graceful as she balanced on one foot and undid the zip of the other boot.  When her feet were bare she wiggled her toes in the grass and stood there smiling at him.

“What?” he asked.

“You look so—I dunno—vulnerable!  Sitting there with your trousers around your knees.  S’like you’re ready to be ravished!”

He felt it, too.  He had crossed his hands in front of his crotch without realizing it. 

“It’s not fair for me to be so dressed.”  With that she slipped off the jodphurs and her knickers.

“Leave the jacket,” he said quickly.  With her breasts hidden she was something other than woman, someone he didn’t really know yet, but most certainly wanted to.

“Aye?”  Her mysterious smile reappeared, and then she bent to take off his boots, and that was alluring, too, and then worked his trousers down his calves, and when he was stripped she pushed him back on the blanket, pressed his knees apart and made him lie there, exposed to the world just like she had said she would.

“You are so beautiful,” she said, watching him, studying his shape.

“No, you are,” he answered.  It was hard not to touch his cock for so long, to leave it hard and wet and ready.  He did feel exposed.  Seeing her crouched on her naked haunches with her tweed jacket hiding her femininity gave him a strange sensation of vulnerability.  It was simultaneously scary and a turn-on.  She was so unlike the Annie he knew from the office.  She really seemed to be this other person they had invented, this Andrew who was about to ravish him—and the thought made his cock twitch.

“Dear me,” she said.

“I’m nervous,” he confessed.

“Don’t be.  It’s a wonderful thing.”

“What will the other girls say about me?”

“Oh Samantha,” she breathed.  She moved over him between his open thighs until his cock was between her legs, shifted back against him, and sank slowly down onto him, just partway.  “Am I hurting you?”

“A little,” he playacted, although she was actually making him burn.  She kissed his forehead, down the side of his cheek to his lips.  He quivered, wanted to thrust up into her as hard as he could, wanted to flip her over and fuck her hard and fast…

“Are you all right?”

“Yeah.”

She eased down further, hot and tight around him.  He imagined taking her slowly into himself.  “Your cock,” he whispered.  “I can feel it.”

“Ahh.”

She was gentle, almost too gentle.  He imagined her pressing into him for the first time, having to ease her way in, and eventually he started losing himself in that thought, feeling himself open to her, unable to resist. 

“Oh god,” she said.  He captured her mouth again and she met him, their kisses wet and eager and full, rolling together.  With his cock between her legs he didn’t get as much penetration as usual, but the situation, the location, the rough fabric of her jacket against his belly, it all reminded him that she was Andrew… Andrew, working his cock into Samantha, taking her, initiating her.

“Oh,” he gasped.  “Ah.  You—fucking me.  Yeah.  Wanted this.”

“Yeah?”  She rode him, hips pumping.  “Wanted me to take you?”

“Wanted it to be you.  For the first time.”

She thrust harder, her pubic bone hitting his, and while it was a little uncomfortable for him she seemed to relish it.  “God, I can’t help myself,” she whispered.

“Oh… harder.  Yeah, do it…”

She put a hand to the side of his face, pressed his head back against the grass.  “I want to—to kiss your neck, oh god, your neck,  oh Samantha…”  She was thrusting against him, working him, biting his neck and tasting his skin and he arched his head backward and spread his legs wider for her.  She ground hard against him and then she was arching up, crying out, he thought she had never been so beautiful, her face contorted as if in pain and her body rigid against his.  He imagined her cock pumping deep inside him and that did something, that made him jerk into her and then he was coming and his eyes closed and he felt it, he really felt it all over his body.  And he felt laid open and taken, and used and pleasured all at once… it was _different_.

Annie drew a shaky breath, slid up and down him one more time and then rolled off and onto her back.  She was grinning at the sky.  “Samantha Tyler,” she said admiringly.

He laughed.  “Yeah.”

They lay there, soaking in the sun, and he found her hand and twined his fingers with hers, stroking his thumb against her knuckles.  The horses cropped and switched their tails, and somewhere distantly a dog barked.  A wind picked up.  Sam shivered.

“I suppose…” she said.

He rolled to face her, put a hand tenderly against her cheek.  “Thank you,” he said softly.

“Was it everything you hoped it would be?”

“Yes.”

She kissed him.  “What will you tell the other girls?”

“There are no other girls.”  He smiled wryly.  “There’s only you.”

“Oh.”  She seemed to be pondering.  He watched her face, dropped his hand to hers and stroked it again.  “I liked it, Sam.”

“Mmmm.  Me too.”

“Do you want to do that again?”

“Only if you do.”

“Do you…” she paused, searchingly, “want to—wear women’s knickers, stuff like that?”

He drew breath.  “No.  It’s not like that.  And… this was something new.”

“Was it?”

“Yeah.  You—I just saw you differently today.  On your horse.  Your terrifying horse.”

She giggled.  “Terrifying!”

“Oh yes.”  He gave her a wide-eyed look of sincere horror.  “Monstrous.”

“Sam!  You have to get back on your monster!”

“I am fully aware of that.”  He stretched his legs, then sat up with a groan.  “Don’t want to be late for tea.  Oh, I really don’t want to move!”

She rolled to her hands and knees and scrambled to retrieve articles of clothing.  “No, but you must.  You’ll stiffen up after that riding.”

He fielded his jodphurs, creakily got to his feet.  Grinned at the sight of her bare arse under the edge of the tweed jacket.  “You have the most profoundly perfect arse on the planet, my dear.”

She turned to face him with a enchanting smile.  “And you, Samuel, have the most delightfully perfect cock.”

“Yeah,” he agreed.  “Yeah, I think I do.”

They finished dressing as the wind picked up and then made quick work of the picnic remnants, stuffing them into the saddlebags.  Zephyr snorted, threw up his head, and Penny followed suit.

“Back in the saddle, then?” Annie asked.

“If I must.”  He gathered the reins. 

The ride home went much faster than the ride out.  They cantered all the way down the lane, and Sam felt a little exhilaration as well as a surging fear and the desire to scream like a little girl.  Perhaps he was getting the hang of this horse riding stuff.  Perhaps they would ride again.  He grinned into the wind.

The shadows were lengthening as they rode into the stableyard.  Mary looked up from where she was shoveling straw, waved, and met them at the door.  Annie dismounted as lightly as a bird; Sam gasped in pain as he slid down Penny’s shoulder and hit the ground.

“A little hard on ye, was she?” Mary asked with a twinkle in her eye.

“The horse or Annie?” he grumbled.

“Be nice to him,” Annie chided.  “He was off at the top of Fox Hill.  He’ll have bruises tomorrow.”

Sam shot her a dirty glance.  “I have bruises now, thank you!”  He could feel every muscle of his right buttock, not to mention the sore spot on the front of his pubic bone.

“Penny _threw_ you?”

“It wasn’t her fault!” Annie exclaimed.  “Or Sam’s.  She shied at something.”

Mary took the reins of both horses, gestured for the two of them to precede her into the building.  “So do you reckon you’ll want more riding lessons after today’s experience, Sam?”

He laughed and shot a glance at Annie.  “Yeah.  After witnessing Annie’s riding prowess, I think I need more practice.”  He reached out a hand to her and she took it.

Mary cocked her head sagely.  “It’s a skill one never masters; there’s always room for improvement.  Even with you, Annie m’girl!”

They laughed, and then Annie led Sam down the walk to the house and he watched the side of her face and thought about what a day it had been and how fresh and alive he felt, and knew that there would always be surprises with her.  Riding lessons, indeed.

 

 


End file.
